


We Did It

by Keitmeg



Series: Cursed Winchesters [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Brother/Brother Incest, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Shameless Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Castiel, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Witch Curses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 00:12:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15896970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keitmeg/pseuds/Keitmeg
Summary: Sam is hit with a curse and it falls on the other two to save him.





	We Did It

**Author's Note:**

> If this seems similar to My Greatest Sin Is it's because I intended for that. I felt bad with Sam always being the one with a one-sided attraction, so I came up with this oneshot, making it look like MGSI because, dude, that one is not all laughs and giggles.

 

 

Cass isn’t just an angel for shows; well, he’s that, too, sometimes. Actually, make that more times than Dean would care to count. But he is a very, um, strong angel. He also has no sense of self-awareness when it comes to people’s privacy. There are times when he shows up when Dean is literally at the toilet bowl, emptying his bladder. There is a lot going on there because Dean knows angels can sense other presence, or whatever. Fuck if he knows. But Castiel dropping out of the sky has caused him a real inconvenience one time when he was in the showers of the bunker; gosh, the pressure in there –not the point. He was jerking off as though it’d been said on the news a meteor was going to crash the earth to pieces and send humanity to extinction. Dean isn’t bothered by that, no. He’d jerk off anywhere he wanted, it’s his dick. What he had a problem with, though, was Castiel showing up at the exact moment the name ‘Sam’ was uttered between parted lips as he spurted cum on his hand.

It had been awkward, and all Dean said in his defense was ‘not a word, or I swear’. Although he felt like he’d been stripped naked knowing someone else was now sharing his secret, he also felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He always knew the idea of him in his fantasies defiling what he’d spent his all trying to protect was not only a sin, but also a betrayal to what Sam holds dear.  He’s always striven to keep the veil on that because Sam deserves better, and that’s what he’s always believed in, and that’s what Castiel has always supported him on. Dean can now say that Castiel might not be that powerful or smart, because the dramatic idiot always blows things out of proportion for the greater good and always fails; but he is a friend, and that is what Dean needs.

That, however, takes a hundred and eighty degree transformation when Sam comes to their motel for the night giggling like a gay hairdresser….

 

They’ve been working a case in some shitty holier-than-thou town and some ‘glam’, whatever, showed them to an artifact that was ‘allegedly’ left by God Himself, which required the urgent attendance of Castiel who stuck around to help out seeing that innocent bodies were dropping. Well, not dropping dead per se, not if you call having a raging hard-on and fucking everything with a heartbeat then falling exhausted dropping.

It’s been going smoothly –except for Dean’s intermittent jokes that managed to spoil the serious mood now and then– until Sam went all silent and then closed his laptop as though a scary face popped out on the screen, then levered up like a man with purpose.

“I’m going out for a drink.” He said before taking his jacket off the back of his chair and walking out.

Dean sighed; knowing Sam and how much of an emotional bitch he is, Dean guessed the guy was just having one of his emo episodes and needed a corner to cry. Okay, so maybe they weren’t getting anywhere close to saving those people, but which one would you rather: not get emotional and work the case or go pub hopping to get shitfaced. But, Dean thought that Sam had been pushing himself too much lately and he needed the break.

 

Now, he’s here, again, looking disheveled and blushed… _paint me purple and call me Barney_ if Sammy isn’t looking extra dreamy.

Dean and Castiel exchange a look –the _look_ – before switching to look back at Sam, who starts taking off garments and mumbling stuff that makes no sense. The boots go first; the jacket was already hanging on his shoulder and he’s thrown it aside the moment he walked in. which probably inspired the look. He hums something to himself and giggles before working on the upper buttons of his flannel.

Dean finally narrows his eyes because, okay, fine, Sam’s always a little weird but that is just weirder. “Sam, are you okay?”

Said guy is fumbling with the last button of his flannel by now but it’s giving him attitude, so Sam pouts before finally snapping his attention to his brother, “Hm?” he looks dazed, hazel eyes not focusing on Dean’s and that tells the hunter his brother is pretty far gone; hammered, shitfaced like he thought it’d turn out. “My shirt hates me.”

Giving a hairy eye roll and tossing his hands in the air in defeat, Dean reels towards his best friend. “Sometimes I wonder where I went wrong.”

Castiel, wide-eyed and speechless like a fucking toddler, tilts his head a little. “You should get him to bed.”

“I’d happily toss him in bathtub before he gets tat booze stench all over us.” Dean says and walks up to his brother, heavy strides rising Sam to awareness.

“De” he… he fucking moans!

Said man halts in his track; did… that didn’t just happen. He glances over at Castiel and then back at Sam; for the love of God somebody say something!

“Dean!” There it is again. “I… What’s going on? I don’t remember getting here.”

That isn’t good. Dean slowly approaches his brother again because his heart is twisting in agony seeing the lost look in those puppy eyes of doom. “It’s alright, Sam” he soothes, “just sit down and tell us the last thing you remember.”

Sam whips around to face him but his erection whips around with him.

“Whoa!” Dean lifts up two hands in defense. “This conversation does not require your cock’s erection!”

Sam, flush-cheeked and teary-eyed, he wraps his giant arms around himself to escape their scrutinizing stares. He backs away towards the bathroom, bare feet scuffling but they twist in each other and Sam ends up landing on his rear with another moan.

He doesn’t move, but neither does Dean or Castiel, for that matter; he is liking his spot in the front row seats to how this is going to unfold.

Dean is by his brother’s side in a flash, hard-on or not, Sam is obviously having a _hard_ time. He sweeps his large, fight-roughened hand through his brother’s smooth locks, whispering assurances. Sam lies there on his back, his knees pressed together and his forearms over his face.

“Dean, I think whatever’s doing this has got the drop on me too.”

“You think?” Dean chides, even though he doesn’t mean it.

“Be easy on him, Dean.” Castiel chimes in, “let’s just be glad he wasn’t hurt.”

The glare sent his way tenderizes and Dean, for the first time since his brother waltzed in here, appreciates Castiel being here and being the voice of reason, which is usually Sam’s job but he’s out of commission.

 “Alright, alright.” Dean scrubs a hand over his stubble. “Let’s put you on bed first, and then figure out what to do next.”

 

Sam is sleeping on his side, balled into himself like he’s having a stomachache. He watches as Dean and Castiel place chairs beside his bed.

“So what happened?” Dean cuts to the chase. He’s brother’s been hit by whatever the hell this is, and time might not play in their favor this time –something the Winchester luck has proved over the years.

“I was at the bar –” Sam begins, but then Dean cuts him off.

“Yea, that’s plenty obvious.”

Sam groans like he’s in so much pain to retort, “I swear I didn’t drink that much but suddenly I started feeling woozy. Next thing I know I’m here.”

“Well, that’s informative.” Dean blows a sigh. He turns over to face Castiel who’s looking like he’s pooping his pants. “So, what do we know about this thing?”

“Not much,” Castiel shrugs sadly, “We know it targets males. We know its method but we don’t know what it is.”

“Awesome,” Dean sighs and lifts up, “Alright, I’ll hit the bar and see what I can find. Cas, keep your eyes on him” –he points at his brother over his shoulder, and a quick once over shows him Sam’s doleful eyes on his like a silent plea for help. “Do not let him out of your sight.”

The angel nods. “Dean, you know I’ll protect Sam.”

“Be careful…” Sam mumbles, like he’s scared the same thing would happen to Dean if he goes to that bar.

Wouldn’t that be terrific!

Him and his brother going on a raping rampage and making it to the news with their large meaty weapons, ‘two mad men have taken over the city with their cocks!’ He’d drink to that, and he’s going to a bar.

 

Over forty minutes later, Dean comes back from his query empty-handed. The bartender saw his brother but he wasn’t sitting with anyone. And unlike what Sam said, he was drinking. So one of them is lying. Castiel already called in once, saying that Sam wasn’t getting any better. Dean didn’t know what to make of that but only gripped two fistfuls of his hair and vowed to catch the bastard that did that to his brother.

He opens the door, expecting to find the two in the same spots he left them in, but not this:

Castiel is on Dean’s bed, sitting hunched at its edge, his eyes directed at Sam who, Jesus Christ, is naked and crouched between Castiel’s legs, angelic cock in his mouth.

“What the fuck is going on!” Dean rages, taking wild strides towards them. “What’ you doing to my brother!”

Sam hisses at him and Dean immediately stops, his hands left midair.

“It’s him doing things to me, Dean.” Castiel seethes between gritted teeth. “I used my powers but I almost hurt him. He just doesn’t want to back off.”

Dean’s confused kid eyes take in his brother, and the way Sam is slurping away on that cock and moaning around it is… it’s just not real.

Sam is an upright, decent man despite what he was forced into in the past. He always strives to be better, to do good even if it goes on his expenses. He’s a great hunter. He’s a great little brother.

And… and that should be Dean’s cock inside that small mouth, not Castiel’s. If it’s a fuck-or-die curse, he doesn’t want his brother taken advantage of by people who don’t even know him, who didn’t raise him and been watching his growing beauty …

“He started acting strange” –Castiel interrupts his thoughts, talking through poorly stifled little grunts– “his body was heating up, I had to force it down. Once I touched him, he just lost his mind.”

Dean saunters towards them and peels Sam from that cock. Sam doesn’t take too kindly to that and latches back at Castiel; his articulated words don’t even make a sense.

“Fine, Sam, you want a cock so bad?” He dares, now tossing his brother back on his bed and working on his own fly. “You fucking bastard, despite everything I do for you, this is how you repay me?”

Sam’s too far gone to care, because once he sees Dean’s cock, he is all smiles and dimples again. He reaches for it and hides it in his mouth. Dean throws his head to the back and groans; this isn’t just one of his fantasies, no, this is Sam, although cursed, desiring him back.

A pleasurable current courses through him, followed by a pounding heat, and it’s all it takes for Dean to be fully onboard with fucking his brother. He props his knee on the edge of the bed, and his hand at the back of Sam’s face before snapping his hips and hitting the back of Sam’s throat with the crown of his cock.

“Jesus fuck!” He grunts, “Better than I’ve ever imagined…”

Sam’s cock spurts cum as the man keens, the friction causing Dean to cum as well, filling his brother’s throat.

He slowly pulls out, long strings of cum linking the head of his cock to Sam’s mouth and it’s better than anything he’s seen in his fantasies.

Sam crawls properly over the bed on four and spreads his legs, wagging his lush ass for Dean to pound. Dean peers down from his perch, rejoicing at the sight.

That’s Sam’s ass…

Sam has just offered his ass to Dean, his big brother. And he’s looking so happy about the thought of being taken and pounded into. Alright, hands down. Sam doesn’t realize he’s been cursed but he is certainly acting like this isn’t his first time, which is in equal parts infuriating but at the same time hot.

Dean knows Lucifer messed up with his brother in ways that don’t even come to mind, so Sam isn’t to blame here.

Sam’s ass hole also looks puffy, like he’s been playing with it for a long time. Dean gulps and gives his cock a few rubs, and then he slowly inserts it into the alluring hole. He enjoys the way Sam keens and cries under him. He falls in love in the way his ass hole clenches around his shaft as though exulting at the penetration. Still in a stupor, he snaps his hips and thrusts sharply into the wetness and hotness. “Fuck…” he groans, “been dreaming of this, little brother, my whole life…”

Castiel hears Sam’s muffled moans and his entire body rejoices, especially his cock Sam’s been so dutifully sucking. He parts his lips and drools all over his chin as he watches how rough Dean is treating his precious little brother, reenacting his darkest fantasy.

Dean snakes his bulky fingers into Sam’s hair, grips and then yanks, bringing Sam’s ear to his lips; his hips a blur, like a dog fucking a bitch. “That’s it, Sammy, let out your sweet little voice. Show me you want this, you want me.”

Sam follows the whispered commands to the word, letting out small delicious whines. “De…” his eyes cross under his lids as he shoots his cum again, causing Dean to moan at the abrupt pressure on his shaft.

“You came from big bro’s cock, Sammy, huh?” Dean bites on his bottom lip and thrusts harder, causing Sam to cry out again. “So erotic, little brother…”

Castiel’s sky-blue eyes behold the two brothers fucking like a pair of ferrets, and then he drools and his precum becomes thicker and more abundant. He shuffles his legs and thrusts in to the air, wishing it was Sam’s ass hole. But knowing Dean, he probably wouldn’t want to share.

Dean’s eyes meet Castiel’s, and he smiles gleefully at the hungry look he sees in there.

Although fearing the rejection, Castiel gets up, sways to the other bed and places himself against the headboard. A quick nod from Dean permits him the usage of Sam’s mouth, so he grabs Sam by the hair and puts his mouth on his cock.

Sam lets out a squeak like this is the happiest day of his life before taking all of the cock in one quick sweep, like a damn vacuum, bobs his head on it and drives Castiel a little crazy.

Dean is also groaning; Sam clenching on him is just so good to be true. His piston thrusts make Sam’s entire body rock on the cock he’s happily sucking; his cock is shaking shamelessly, droplets of cum flying to the bed and his abdomen, until Dean fists it –his Sammy’s cock! He jerks it off while pounding the plump, round ass and groaning about how fucking good it feels inside his little brother.

Castiel drops back as his cock throbs. “Oh, Sam…” his gruff voice falls even deeper, “I’m going to…” he says, sending cum to Sam’s mouth and face. Dean atop grumbles about also reaching his climax and Sam perks up, finally talking…

“Inside me, De” he pleas, “Give me all your jizz, big brother.”

“You want it, huh?” Dean is panting like a dog at this point.

“Yes, always, love you Dean.”

And then Dean is cumming…

 

As Sam lies there, sex-out, unconscious and covered in their cum with his hole twitching a spilling his big brother's cum, Dean runs a hand through his hair and faces Castiel.

“What the hell are we gonna do?”

Castiel, with his stupid goggle eyes, just stares.

“Awesome.” Dean huffs, “Alright, I’m not ready for him to hate me. We’re still trying to be brothers again” –he meets Castiel’s eyes– “wipe his memories, we’ll deal with the rest later.”

 

In the end, it turned out that it was the bartender who set it all up.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos if you liked, became wet or almost fapped?


End file.
